Sorceress
by Skysong
Summary: She was born into danger, feared her whole life, and carried something that would change Tortall forever. Story previously known as The Sorceress of Alois. New chapter up, please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

**The Sorceress of Alois**

Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns all the original characters etc. from her books, including the Sorceress of Alois. Any other characters, places etc. belong to me. Enjoy!

Chapter One: The Beginning

It was a clear, cloudless night in the Great Southern Desert. The air was still and held the slight smell leftover from the evening meal. The whole tribe of The Bloody Hawk was at council at the fire with their headman, Hiran Falah, deliberating over the arrival of three of King Roald's men. All attended, all except one man. He stood, silently pacing the small amount of sand outside the midwives' tent. He had been silently pacing and listening to the gasps of pain coming from the tent at regular intervals since sun-up and would continue to for some time more.

The Bazhir man was obviously a warrior; he had large muscles and a warrior's gait. The only thing that suggested he was anything but a warrior was his face. Gentle and serene (especially for a man who has been pacing all day), he had but a single crease on his forehead. His face gave nothing else away about how he felt at the present moment. The Bazhir are infamous for their ability to control their emotions. This man had his control down to a fine art.

A second Bazhir man approached him. He too had been waiting and pacing all day, but the second Bazhir was uncharacteristically less able to hold all of his emotions together. He smiled briefly at the first man, then continued his becoming frenzied pacing.

A few minutes later, the midwife, Karli, swept open the tent, and stood smiling at the two Bazhir who had been pacing outside.

"You may come in and see your child now, Garat," she said.

The first Bazhir smiled gratefully at the midwife and, following Karli, entered the tent through the open flap, leaving the second Bazhir alone outside. Inside, on a sleeping mat, lay his wife, Nardi. She was holding gently onto a small figure, wrapped in what had once been a burnoose. Garat slowly knelt down to greet his wife, and kissed her on the cheek, then took the baby from her.

"Isn't it wonderful, Garat?" Nardi smiled tiredly. "We have a beautiful baby girl."

Garat smiled at the bundle he held in his arms, and cooed softly at it. "Yes, it is wonderful."

Karli smiled again at the happy couple, and then took her leave, closing the tent flap on her way out and entering the adjacent tent to continue her work.

"What shall we name her, Garat?"

"What about Sari?"

"Sari sounds wonderful," replied the happy Nardi.

Garat lay down next to his wife, placing the new baby girl, Sari, between them. Nardi soon fell asleep, exhausted with her day's efforts.

Garat, on the other hand, began to ponder the meaning of the child he had helped bring in to the world. He and Nardi had only arrived at The Bloody Hawk a few years ago; they had only been accepted by the tribe's elders because The Voice, Ali Mukhtab, had told the tribe that Garat and Nardi were to be welcomed without questions. That had only started the questions pouring in from each corner of the tribe. Only Hiran Falah had not asked any questions. Garat was a good hunter, and knew the ways of the sword well, so he became a man of the tribe easily. Nardi, on the other hand, had no special skills, and was more of a burden on the tribe than a blessing. She had picked up the art of weaving quite quickly, though, and now she made the finest cloth in the tribe. The other women of the tribe resented her for this, except for a few, including Karli, the midwife.

Garat's thoughts turned back to Sari. The current world was one of great danger, especially for a Bazhir maiden. More of the Bazhir were slaughtered each day by the King's men. The chance of his being able to stay with the tribe and not have to race off to fight with the other young men was slim, even if he had a wife and a small child. He knew that Hiran Falah was a fair headman, but if war came to their region, all able bodied men would be required to fight.

Garat also knew that he had a great secret, one which even Nardi didn't know about. He hoped it to stay that way forever. Nardi would be put to shame; they would be thrown out of the tribe. They would become exiles, on the run from Bazhir law.

Garat soon forgot about his troubles as he glanced down at the small face peering up at him. Sari was the face of all peace and joy, and the big Bazhir felt at peace with the world and the Eternal Balance and for the first time in his life, went to sleep without doubt or fear creeping into his mind.

AN: Sorry about shortness of this, the next chapter will be longer, I promise! Enjoy!  
Skysong


	2. Chapter 2

**The Sorceress of Alois**

Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns all the original characters etc. from her books, including the Sorceress of Alois. Any other characters, places etc. belong to me.

AN: Thank you to the people who have reviewed chapter one. I am so sorry it has taken me soooooo long to update, I have been busy busy busy (and had mega writer's block!). I hope you enjoy this and please R&R!

Chapter Two: 

The little girl stood silently, the wind billowing around her. The sand of the desert whipped up and around, spinning up into her glossy black hair. She was about three years old, dressed in the common garb of a desert maiden. Her stance betrayed nothing. Her face betrayed nothing. It was as if she was locked in stone, unable to move or change. Only her eyes held the truth.

Her stormy grey eyes held about them a strange fear. She stared off in to the distance, her eyes filling again with tears as she saw something others could not. She was afraid; it was coming to get her. The thing, the creature, the one who would not be named, it was coming for her.

"Sari!"

A commanding voice broke her attention and the creature vanished. Sari looked up to see her mother, Nardi, running towards her, her burnoose billowing in the wind.

"Sari!" her mother said. "You must stop! You're bringing down the entire . . . . what is it, child?"

Sari clung to her mother's burnoose, shaking with fear. Nardi picked her up and held her close.

"Ssshhhhh, it will be alright," she murmured to her daughter. "Ssshhh . . . ."

Nardi carried Sari back to the village, and placed her on her sleeping mat.

"Sleep now, my child, sleep," she whispered.

Nardi watched as Sari fell into a slumber, and then walked out of the tent.

------------

"What's wrong with our daughter, Garat?" Nardi said to her husband a few moments later. "This is the sixth time she has raced out into the desert on her own, and been found staring out at the sand. I don't know what she sees, but she's always shaking when I find her. I think she's mad . . . ."

Nardi's eyes began to well up. Garat took her hands in his large ones and looked deep into her eyes.

"I don't know, Nardi," he said. "I honestly don't know. I think it's time to find out. If she's mad, I'm sure someone will know what we can do."

"Oh, Garat," she said, with a heavy sigh. "What, what if she is?"

"Then we'll fix her. It will be alright, Nardi, our baby will be alright."

Nardi nodded. She pulled her hands out of Garat's.

"I must go; it is nearly time for the Voice."

She hurried off. Garat watched her go, his heart heavy. It had come, the time had come. He would have to move his family, move away from his friends once more. They had come a long way since moving to the Bloody Hawk, and Hiran Falah was a good man, and a good Headman.

His eyes faded off into the distance. As they did, he began to notice a strange form beginning to glow in front of his eyes. It started to take shape, and as it did, Garat could make out the vague outline of a creature, of the one who would not be named, the Demon Lord of the Underworld. He stumbled back away from the apparition in front of him, barely noticing the steep incline of the slope behind him. He tripped on a rock and fell heavily, the Demon Lord approaching . . . . . . . . .

_**Flashback**_

_A younger Garat runs along the sand dunes, looking over his shoulder from time to time. Another man is just behind him, shouting and cursing, and pointing what appears to be a long stick with a crystal ball at the top._

"_Demon!" he shrieked at the top of his lungs. "Demon! Come and face your nemesis!"_

_The shaman's crystal staff emitted a strange, dull sound, and a lightning shot slammed into the sand barely inches from Garat's feet. He jumped and, stumbling for a quick minute, regained his momentum and kept running. Then he stopped . . . . . ._

_**End Flashback**_

. . . . . . . . the Demon Lord approaching. Garat's head slammed into the ground and kept sinking. Within seconds, his face was under sand. He fought to breathe, fought to keep his consciousness. In front of him, he could see the Demon Lord's gruesome face contorting into what could only be described as a smile.

"You're done, Garat, time to return to where you truly belong," he hissed, saliva dripping from his mouth, teeth baring in Garat's face.

Garat shook his head, fighting to keep himself above the sand . . . . . . . . .

_**Flashback**_

_Garat fell heavily, and slammed into the sand dune. The shaman laughed, a hacking laugh that chilled him to the bone. The shaman reached Garat, and stood over him, pinning him to the ground with his staff. _

"_Demon, I send you back to your hell!" he spat._

"_No, no, I'm not a demon," Garat said, trying to get up from the shaman's grip._

_The shaman pinned him tighter to the sand, and Garat felt his head slowly into the soft sand. The shaman sank him further, then rose his staff._

"_No!"_

_**End Flashback**_

. . . . . . . . . "NO!"

The Demon Lord vanished as fast as he came, so fast that Garat lurched out of the hole he had been sinking into at a painful velocity. He rubbed his aching head and looked out at the sand.

"_Next time, Garat, you're mine."_ The Demon Lord's voice swept across the empty plains, sending a shiver down Garat's spine. _"And your lovely daughter too . . . . . . . ."_

Garat stood up quickly, and began to run towards the village, his thoughts only on Sari and Nardi. He could only hope they were alright.

----------------

AN: And there you have it folks. Please R&R! Chapter three will be up very soon, I promise! Quick question, in TWWRLAM, does Ali Mukhtab say if he was a childhood friend of the Sorceress, or if she was just a friend? I don't have the books on me. Anyone who can answer my question will be greatly appreciated!

Skysong


	3. Chapter 3

**The Sorceress of Alois**

Disclaimer: as for previous chappies!

AN: Mistake in the last chappie – At the end, I asked if any of you lovely reviewers knew if Ali Mukhtab was around when the Sorceress was. I should have asked you about Halef Seif, not Ali Mukhtab! Sorry! (And if anyone knows if they were childhood friends, please let me know ASAP!)

Chapter Three

Garat stumbled to his knees in front of his little cook fire outside his tent. His voice broke as he began the ritual that allowed him to commune with the Voice of the Tribes.

Once in contact, he broke down.

"Voice," he began. "Voice, he is gone. Hiran Falah is gone."

"_I know, Bazhir son. I am one with all Bazhir. It was his time; he had served his purpose in the Eternal Balance."_

"But Voice, I am to blame. I caused his death. If I had not been dishonest about my past, if he had only known . . . . ." the big Bazhir's face crumpled.

"_My son, you must listen to me. There will be a new headman, and he will be as wise as Hiran Falah. He will understand you. Go with my blessing, son of the Bazhir, your destiny is coming to you soon. Look after your family, and remember that I am always here, you only need look inside yourself."_

-----------------

"Sari, you must wear your veil!" exclaimed her mother. "The men of the tribe already think you are disrespectful, what will the new headman think?"

Sari sighed, and pinned her veil back on to her billowing burnoose, holding back her glossy black hair. The young Bazhir maiden had put her veils on only two years before, but still held the rebellious streak in her that pulled it from her face at any opportunity.

At that moment, Garat entered the tent, having spent his morning trying to escape the questioning from the men of the tribe about the unfortunate death of Hiran Falah. He shook his head and as he did, an image began to form before his eyes.

_**Flashback**_

_The Demon Lord had appeared suddenly, taking hold of Garat's mind before he could blink his eyes. _

"_Now I have you, Garat," he hissed in Garat's mind. "Now you're going back to your hell."_

"I don't think so, Demon Lord."

_The Demon Lord wrenched himself from Garat's mind suddenly, and began to materialise in front of Garat. _

"_Time to go."_

_The Demon Lord vanished in a puff of mist, and appeared next to Hiran Falah at the fire. Garat stood suddenly,_

"NO!"

_The Demon Lord laughed at Garat's feeble attempts to warn the tribe, to tell them what was happening, and then drove his long sharp fingernails into Hiran Falah's heart. The Headman stopped mid word, and fell backwards, dead in an instant. Garat fell to the ground, as the tribe stared, half at Garat, half at the fallen headman. The Demon Lord laughed his manic laugh, then vanished._

_**End Flashback**_

He shook his head again and the image disappeared. He smiled at his wife and daughter, and then said,

"Let us meet this new headman, then, shall we?"

----------------------------

Halef Seif was as understanding as the Voice had said he was. A young man of the tribe, recently accelerated to the role of Headman, he brought new ideas and understanding to the Bazhir's old ways. When Garat asked for a private audience, he accepted at once.

The Headman and Garat entered the Headman's tent, and sat on the embroidered mat on the floor.

"How can I assist you, Garat?" the new Headman asked.

"I must tell you my truth, Halef Seif," he replied.

The Headman smiled. "Ah, yes, the Voice told me you'd want to tell me about that. Speak, Garat."

Garat smiled weakly back at his Headman. "I was born 30 summers ago, in a tribe to the far north of this one. My mother died giving me birth. I was born with a Gift, and the Sight. My Gift is tied to the desert, and is quite powerful. My mother's death caused my village to believe I may be cursed, but the Headman forced their belief out of them. Unfortunately, he was then caught and killed by a band of raiders.

The new Headman was not as open minded, and ordered my father to tell him all of my secrets, about my Gift, and my Sight. My father refused, and died accidentally in a brief battle with raiders shortly after. I believe he was murdered."

Halef Seif closed his eyes. "My sympathies, Garat. To lose both parents at such a young age is a terrible tragedy."

Garat nodded and continued his story. "After he died, my emotional state worsened, and my Gift, tied to the land as it were, went with it. I began to tear up the land, my Gift ran rampant. The village Shaman believed I was mad, not Gifted, and convinced the village that I needed to be cast out. I refused to go, the Shaman lost his temper, and I was killed."

Halef Seif's eyebrows knitted together. "Killed?" he asked.

"Yes. Killed. I know, it is a lot to comprehend, but after I reached the Afterlife, I was approached by a woman of Divinity, who convinced me I had yet to achieve my full potential and placed me back in this world. However, she did so at terrible cost, and I am now followed by demon Lord's, masters of their art, who only I can see, but who can affect everyone around me."

He hung his head. "This is why Hiran Falah is no longer with us. The Demon Lord appeared, and murdered him in cold blood. I am not supposed to be here, it should have been me."

"Garat, what happened to Hiran Falah was not your fault. You can't have known. Continue, please."

Garat took a deep breath, and continued with his story. "But I was not returned back to Tortall. I was returned to a land in the north, where I soon met with a woman who had the Sight enough to see the future. She told me I would father a child who would have my gifts, and have the power to change the fate of the land, and unite it to save it from destruction. I returned to Tortall, where I met Nardi, and moved to the Bloody Hawk, where we were soon happy to be graced with Sari's presence.

Sari, however, has my gifts, she can see the Demons who curse my life. She doesn't know this yet, and I won't tell her, but we must move on. We cannot remain here and continue to curse this tribe with our ill luck. We must move on."

"I too, have a Gift, small as it might be," Halef Seif. "Is it not enough for you to stay here and be protected?"

"No, we must move. We have caused enough hurt to the tribe already. It is enough that you know, use the knowledge as you wish, but we must leave, and leave now."

"Very well," said Halef Seif. "Good luck in your travels, Garat."

Garat left the tent, and went to his own, to inform Nardi and Sari of their departure.

In the moments after his departure, Halef Seif pondered the circumstances that had introduced him to Sari and her family. They had grown up together, although he was 8 summers her senior. He had known there was something not right about her, and had been told she was 'mad' because of her visions, but now he realised with a sickening feeling, that she and her family would be running for their lives, because of the prophecy, made by a northern seer. He would wish that life on no-one. Looking up at the sky, he began to prepare himself to join with the Voice. They had a lot to discuss.

-------------------

The sun set as Garat, Nardi and Sari bid farewell to the village of the Bloody Hawk that had been their home for 16 summers. They and their meagre belongings began the walk across the desert, towards a new home.

-----------------------------

AN: There you have it folks. Please Read and Review – that's it, hit that little 'review button'. You may not get another chappie for a while, I'm in exams, and then I'm on holidays, but I may be able to update again soon! Enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorceress**

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my characters and my storyline (so in actual fact, I suppose I do own something . . . . .)

Chapter Four:

They did not walk far before tragedy hit.

"No!"

Sari's shriek of anger and hurt pierced through the night. Nardi grabbed her hand and pulled her far away from where she could see Garat writhing in the sand.

"Mother, its on top of him – that thing is crawling all over him!"

"Sari, look at me!" Even in her grief Nardi was commanding. "There is nothing you can do. Garat has gone mad . . . " Here a sob escaped her lips. "Can you not see him? Do you not see that he has taken leave of . . . . ."

Nardi collapsed and released her hold on her daughter. Sari ran towards her father, the ghostly outline of the Demon Lord who had haunted her since childhood firmly pressed onto his stomach, claws scraping at his neck.

"Father, no!" She screamed over the wind, which picked up and carried the sounds across the vast expanse of desert. She collapsed next to her father, and attempted to pull the Demon Lord off him.

"Sari, no," Garat whispered, his face pale with pain.

A voice behind him made Sari look behind her. The shaman, Azzhi Noret, appeared just above the dune in her vision, holding his staff and appealing to the heavens. He and some of the warriors of the tribe began to run towards her and her father, who was slowly losing consciousness, but still fighting the demon Lord's rough grip.

A whimper of pain brought her attention back to Garat, who was speaking again.

"Sari, I should have told you sooner, and for that I am ashamed. Sari, you have a great gift. You must use it. You must . . . . ."

But exactly what Sari must do was lost as Azzhi Noret and his followers arrived. The shaman pointed his staff at Garat and began to intone a spell, one which triggered Sari's memory . . . . . . .

_**Flashback**_

_. . . . Azzhi Noret stood in the middle of the Bloody Hawk's meeting area, staff outstretched to point at a man of the tribe. The man had his eyes closed and was rambling gibberish . . . .._

_**End Flashback**_

Azzhi Noret continued to speak the words of the spell, as Garat began to shake.

_**Flashback**_

_. . . . . Azzhi Noret intoned the spell. _

_Nardi whispered in Sari's ear. "He is mad. Azzhi Noret is speaking the spell to release him from the evil embrace"_

_Suddenly the man knelt on the floor toppled over, and he died . . . . . _

_**End Flashback**_

Sari jolted back to the present, as Azzhi Noret began the ritual phrase to end spells. She slammed her body onto his.

"No! You cannot do this!"

Azzhi Noret's head slammed into the sand, and he lost consciousness. A warrior picked Sari off the floor and held her tight against her will. She attempted to fight him off, but eventually succumbed to his hands tightly gripping against her arms. She peered around her and saw Nardi running towards Garat. She also saw the Demon Lord smile menacingly towards her, then leap for Nardi.

Sari screamed as the Demon Lord entered her mother's body and stopped her heart. She could hear the Lord's laughter and mocking voice in her head and she looked between her father and her mother, both lying motionless in the sand.

"Gotcha now, darling," whispered the Demon Lord in her head, as Sari lost consciousness.

-----------------

When Sari awoke, she found herself in the tent of Halef Seif. The tent's owner stared at her gently before smiling and offering her a cup of water. Sari sat up and accepted the cup, grimacing as she felt the water hit her sore throat.

"What h . . . ." She stopped to cough. Sari tried again, "what happened?"

Halef Seif smiled sadly at her. "I'm sorry, Sari, but both your parents are dead. It is a miracle that you survived."

His voice dropped a tone or two as he continued.

"Sari, I do not know what happened, or why. However, Azzhi Noret is dead, your parents are dead, and it would appear that nightmares your father kept from you to keep you safe have found you. Sari, you have a powerful Gift, one which, before his death, Azzhi Noret told me was dangerous. However, the Gods have chosen to grant me a vision of your future, that you might be better guided."

He paused, and took a sip from his own cup.

"Sari, I have seen a great deed which you will do before you die. This task will bring many groups who have been warring together and it will strengthen us all. But it will cost you, the most precious thing you have in your life. You must leave here . . . . ."

At this, Sari reacted.

"Where will I go? If my magic is as powerful as you say, should I not be trained?"

She realised her mistake as soon as she spoke her words, and looked down, abashed.

"Sari, I am sorry, but we cannot train you. Even though our own Shaman is dead, you are a woman. You cannot bear that responsibility. You must leave the Bloody Hawk as your parents wished and go elsewhere."

Sari began to protest, but Halef Seif overrode her.

"No, Sari, you must go. I am sorry, we cannot have you here. Already the people call for your death because of your role in Azzhi Noret's death. If you die, the future will be disastrous for Tortall. No, you must go."

Halef Seif ended all further conversation by rising to his feet. He offered his hands to Sari and helped her up.

"I am sorry it had to end this way, Sari," he murmured before opening the tent flaps.

Sari slowly walked out of the tent and began, once again to walk away from the village that she had once called her home.

-----------------

A/N: Another chapter for you lovely people. Please R&R!


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorceress**

Disclaimer: TP owns everything.

A/N: I finally managed to get hold of Beka Cooper: Terrier. It's really good! Do read it if you haven't!

But now, onto the story . . . . . . .

Chapter Five:

Sari wandered the desert for many days, drinking from oasis' and resting when she felt the need. She still felt numb, as if the events of the past few days hadn't actually happened. Often she stumbled along without purpose, playing her mother and fathers final hours over and over in her head.

On the fourth morning since her departure, Sari found a largish oasis, and decided to bathe. She took off her veil and overdress, and popped into the cool water. She floated peacefully in the water for an hour or so, until she heard the sound of approaching hooves. She hurriedly clambered out of the oasis, grabbed her dress and flung herself behind the largest bush she could find.

The sound got closer, until an armoured Knight and his Squire approached. The Knight dismounted, and his Squire hurriedly took the reins and led the Knights and his own horses to drink. The Knight removed his helmet and Sari was able to see him properly.

He was fairly tall, with shoulder-length black hair and mischievous eyes which darted around the oasis. He spoke briefly with his Squire, his words impossible for Sari to hear, then began to remove the rest of his armour. He set it down and approached the water.

Sari's eyes followed him, and all too late realised that she had left her veil on the ground near the water. The Knight picked it up, and quickly spoke to the Squire,

"Squire!"

The Squire ran forward.

"Yes, my lord?"

"We have company. Search the surrounding area with me."

"Of course, my lord. May I ask what sort of company?"

"A woman, Feln, a Bazhir woman."

Sari froze as the Knight and Feln began to search the area. Feln walked slowly but within a minute was standing directly in front of where Sari was hiding.

"My lord! I think I've . . . . ."

Sari stood up and, acting out of instinct, threw her hands out to the side. A stream of magic (to her eyes) flowed in front of herself and Feln, who froze in his spot. The Knight, seeing that Sari was obviously gifted, approached carefully.

"Now, see here mistress," he began. "Release my Squire at once!"

Sari said nothing and the Knight continued to approach until he was standing directly in front of her.

"Release my Squire!"

Sari's arms began to shake, and she stammered, "I – I – I, I don't, k, k, know how!"

The Knight's eyes brightened for a second, and then he breathed heavily.

"An untrained gift," he murmured. He reached out to gently hold her wrist. "It's ok," he said. "I'm gifted too."

Slowly, as if he feared for his life, the Knight helped Sari to pull her magic back into her body. The magic barrier holding Feln released, and he fell to his knees. Sari drooped to the ground, unconscious.

The Knight bent, and picked her up. To Feln, he said,

"Make camp here. We will wait with her until she recovers."

-----------------

The Knight, Aaron of Tirragen, was on his way back to his home with Feln when he found Sari lying on the ground, he told her when she had regained consciousness.

"Truth be told," he said. "I'm glad for the diversion. My father is so rough at times."

Feln and Sari grinned at each other.

"What is your father like?" Aaron asked Sari.

A dark cloud descended on Sari's face. She looked at Aaron and Feln, and saw that they were looking at her with concern, so she told them her short, sad, story.

When she was done, Aaron smiled gently at her. "You are most welcome at Tirragen, Mistress Sari, if you so wish. I'm sure it would amuse my father to no end to find that his youngest, most irritable son was keeping company with a beautiful Bazhir maiden."

Sari smiled back at him, and returned her attention to the cup of water in her hand. Aaron winked at Feln, then sipped from his own cup.

Sir Aaron spent a week at the oasis, allowing Sari to recover from her magical experience and to begin to teach her the basic rudiments of magic, including fire and some healing.

At the end of the week, Feln assisted his knight master to dress in his armour, then clambered onto his own warhorse, swinging Sari up behind him. They began to journey towards Tirragen.

-----------------

A/N: So this was just a bit of a filler chappie. More to come soon, I promise! Please R&R, this is nearly finished, I think maybe 3 or 4 more chapters, and I'd love some reviews! Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorceress**

Disclaimer: TP owns everything.

A/N: I apologise for keeping the end of this story waiting for SOOOO long! Also, special mention must go to Tortallan Rider who has reviewed every single chapter of this fic so far – thanks heaps! But now, onto the next chapter!

Chapter Six:

With Sari in tow, Sir Aaron and his squire Feln rode for three days until they reached the edge of Lake Tirragen, taking turns to double the Bazhir maiden on their horses. They settled at an old Tirragen camping site for the night, and made a fire. As they sat around the fire, Sari noticed Aaron and Feln exchanging dark looks.

Eventually, Sari's curiosity got the better of her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Sari, I, uh, I . . . . . ." Aaron began.

He looked briefly at Feln, then continued.

"Sari, I have been in contact with my father. There have been some troubles at home. We have been raided. Tirragen is now no place for a young maiden to be, I'm sorry."

Sari looked downcast, the first maidenly sign shown by her since Aaron and Feln met her. The Knight stumbled on with his explanation.

"Sari, Feln and I have been on a quest to find something that will bring hope to Tirragen, and to Tortall. But my father told everyone he could about what we were searching for, and that we found it." He fished in his belt pouch. "Sari, we found a map for the Dominion Jewel."

Sari knitted her eyebrows together in concentration. "The name is familiar . . . . I think"

Aaron glanced at Feln and nodded.

"The Dominion Jewel is said to bring great honour to whoever can claim it for themselves. But it is a dangerous mission, and the map is the only way anyone can find it (except those that already know where it is)," Feln explained.

Aaron nodded. "We have been in great trouble for many years, Sari. Tortall has a weak king, who cares naught for anything but peace. Slowly our realm is surrendering its boarders to its neighbours. Roald cares naught for his people, but would spend time with his new Queen. May the Goddess bless our kingdom with an Heir soon."

Aaron and Feln made the sign of the Gods on their chests. _(A/N: I can't remember if they do that in the Alanna books – I don't have them with me so I can't check!)_

"The raiders have burnt our fief down; they are searching for the map so that they can get the Jewel first. We must hurry there so we can help our people to rebuild their lives before winter comes. I am sorry, Sari. You cannot come with us any further." Feln paused and glanced at Aaron, who nodded and turned to face Sari full on.

"Sari, it is not safe for me to carry the map any further. My father has told me to hide it, however I do not think that would be a safe way to protect the map. I think it would be best if I gave the map to you, for safe keeping. I have the gift, I will be able to track you when it is safe for the map to come back to Tirragen."

Sari shook her head. "What if I am found? What if, if you do not make it?"

Aaron smiled gently. "You will not be found, Sari. I will blanket you so that you may only be found by those who you allow. You are gifted, you will be able to lift the spell once you are ready. And if we do not make it . . . ." he paused. "If we do not make it, then I'm sure you will know what to do. It is said that the Jewel finds its seekers, and brings them to it, not the other way around."

He stood and beckoned Sari to come to their horses. They walked to Aaron's horse, and he rummaged through his saddle bags, while Feln kept watch over their dinner. He pulled the map out at last, and waved a hand over it. He murmured some words under his breath, and Sari could feel herself lighter, almost as if the no longer held sway over her body. Aaron completed his spell, and closed it with a soft "So Mote it Be".

He looked around for Sari, who had vanished from his sight. "Sari," he began. "You must allow me to see you. Will it with your gift, like I showed you."

Sari concentrated hard on allowing Aaron to see her (including Feln as well – she felt it might put him slightly out if he could no longer see her, and things were awkward between them as it was). Slowly, she began to materialise in front of Aaron's eyes. He smiled broadly.

"You've done it!" He began to clap her arm, then remembered that she was a Maiden (NOT a fellow Knight, or his Squire), and relocated his hand to grab hers, and gently kiss it. "Well done, Sari."

Sari blushed, and took her hand from his grasp. She looked down at the scroll that was now in her hand, and tucked it into a loose fold in her Burnoose. Following her eyes, Aaron frowned.

"Come," he said. "We must find you some different clothes!"

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The next morning, Sari stood dressed in simple breeches that she had modified to look like a skirt and one of Feln's shirts (Aaron's had been MUCH too big for her), the map tucked underneath. She tied a scrap of cloth from her burnoose around her hair to hold it back, then watched as Feln broke camp and destroyed all evidence of their even being there.

Aaron came up behind her, and spoke softly. "It has been an honour riding with you, Sari, and I am sorry that we must part. We will see you soon, though, I promise." He nodded in Feln's direction. "Feln will miss you a great deal."

Sari smiled. "I will miss him . . . and you . . . a great deal too." She turned to face him. "Thank you for all you've done, Aaron. I hope we will meet again soon."

Feln, having finished breaking camp, came up to stand beside them. "Shall we leave, my lord?"

"Of course, Feln. I was just bidding our Mistress Sari a pleasant trip."

Feln bowed to Sari. "Farewell, Mistress Sari. Best of luck and may the Gods shine upon you!"

"Thank you, Feln. May the Gods shine on you as well. And you, Aaron."

The burly Knight and his squire walked over to their horses, and mounted. Turning to wave to Sari, Aaron called out,

"Farewell, Sari."

As she watched them ride away, Sari gathered her meagre belongings. She stood for a while, watching the dust settle, and then began to walk away from Lake Tirragen, and towards the hills.

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A/N: Well, that's another chappie folks. Hope you liked it! Please press that little button down there and tell me what you think! I noticed the other day that I had almost 400 hits for this story, and only ten reviews! Reviews make me happy, people, and a happy Skysong updates faster! Until next time, though, adieu!


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorceress**

AN: Please R&R – hope you like! Sorry for the really really long wait between chappies!

Chapter Seven: Hope

Sari aimlessly wandered the surrounding hillside for several days after saying farewell to the Knight and his squire. Having forgotten to ask Aaron (or Feln, for that matter) about a map, and having absolutely no idea about the location of any towns or villages near Tirragen, it seemed to Sari that she could wander forever without any contact with human beings.

It was nearly sundown on her fourth day of loneliness when Sari stumbled upon a small village. Building her will to reveal herself to those surrounding her, Sari walked towards the small town. Farmers worked in fields surrounding the small houses and eyed her nervously as she walked past, head down modestly. She walked through the humble village gate and on to the centre of town before she was rudely stopped by a middle-aged man carrying a staff.

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to halt. "What do you want in Alois, girl?"

Sari stared at him for a moment and then gently prised his fingers off her arm. "My apologies, good sir," she said, curtseying briefly. "My name is Sari and I am but a wandering traveller, seeking some hospice for the night."

The man looked her up and down deliberately. "You look like one of them desert scum, girl. What do you want with us?"

Sari took a deep breath to control her rising anger and replied with as politely as she could, "My people asked me to leave. I have come seeking a new home."

"If your own people don't want you, what makes you think that we want you? Here," at this, the man took a step back. "You haven't . . . you know, killed anyone, have you?"

The wind began to pick up as Sari tried, unsuccessfully, to control her anger as it started to spiral out of control. The man, sensing that the unnatural wind was originating from this unnerving Bazhir girl took another step back and called out in a very shaky voice,

"Marcus, Marcus, come here at once!! I, I, we need your help!"

A second voice sounded in the distance, "Quit your whinging, Kirt, I shall be there in barely a moment!"

Kirt, still shaking visibly, took a third step back from Sari and called again to the mysterious Marcus, "Good sir, I think you should come right now."

Sounding annoyed, Marcus called, "Alright, I'm coming!"

Sari barely had time to register the fact that someone else was coming. The sky turned thunderous and lightning appeared to strike a dead tree nearby; a child screamed and the village of Alois was suddenly a hive of activity, people rushing this way and that in an effort to escape the unnatural storm. Sari flopped to the ground and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the storm before it destroyed the whole town and the people in it.

Suddenly Marcus grabbed her by the wrist and yelled in her ear.

"Girl, stop that at once!"

The shock of being addressed in such a manner (and, in fact, that anyone had tried to approach her when she was (as she saw it) a danger not only to herself but to others around her) cut the storm off just as it was building to its climax. Sari opened her eyes and felt herself calm automatically. She looked up at the sky and saw it had returned to its normal colour.

"Girl, what by the name of the Great Mother were you doing? You could have killed us all! That much magic! It's a wonder you're still alive yourself!"

Marcus shook Sari with such force that she felt slightly ill. Breaking out of his grasp, Sari placed her hands at her temples in an attempt to ease a newly developing headache.

"Do you know what this is, Kirt?" Marcus continued, turning his focus from Sari. "She's got the Gift! Untrained, mind, but a powerful Gift nevertheless! This could be the answer!"

Smiling broadly, he turned back to Sari, while a bewildered Kirt simply stared open mouthed at Marcus. "You, girl, what's your name?"

"Sari."

"Well, Sari," he continued, with a fluid bow, "I am Marcus of Alois, a travelling horse trader, well, I was until recently when the village sorcerer died. Since then, I have been trying to sell horses from Alois and protect the village. This," with a gesture in Kirt's general location, "Is Kirt, our Headman, and my esteemed older brother."

Marcus smiled broadly at Sari, who couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Sari, my dear, did you know that you have the Gift?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"And you're untrained?"

Again, Sari nodded.

"And I overheard my honoured brother saying that you're an outcast of the Bazhir?"

For a third time, Sari nodded, sadly this time.

With another nod in Kirt's direction, Marcus continued. "I have an offer for you then, Sari. How would you like to stay here in Alois and learn hone your gift? I can teach you how to use and control your gift and then I can go back to being a horse trader and you can look after Alois. It's a win-win situation!"

Kirt sighed dramatically. "That's fine, younger brother, make decisions about my own village without consulting me."

Marcus grinned at him. "But brother, it is as I have said, a win-win situation. Sari seems to have excellent potential, and this way you go back to having a proper sorce . . . my apologies, sorceress in attendance to protect your village from bandits." Turning to Sari, he added, "so, how about it?"

Sari found herself nodding in the affirmative and was dragged off by the exuberant Marcus to meet his wife. Kirt followed at a safe distance, still slightly shocked by the sudden turn of events in his village. It looked like he'd have a sorceress to protect them again much sooner than he'd thought, excellent.

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Later that night, having spent the rest of the afternoon talking with Marcus and his wife and then finding a small room in the only inn in the village to stay in, Sari unpacked her paltry possessions and pulled the map out from its hiding place. Sari opened it up and stared at it. Unable to read or write, she had no idea what the map said, but could follow the tracks to the star at its top, where she assumed the dominion jewel would be kept. Sighing to herself, she folded it back up and tucked it away for safe keeping. She hoped that Aaron had been right, that the seekers would find the map and find the Jewel. In the mean time, she intended to do her sworn word and keep it safe.

Lying down on her cot, Sari's mind began to wander. For the first time since she had left them, she thought about the Bazhir and her home. Sighing deeply, Sari turned over and closed her eyes, willing for sleep.


End file.
